Lie to Me
by SophiaLilith
Summary: "Guys, there's something wrong with Keith." Kidnapped by the Sirens of Akwa Major, an old Alteian resort, Keith has his brains messed with and his most honest thoughts and feelings are exposed, leading Lance to some wild truths that force him to think about his own feelings - feelings that he might prefer to remain unsaid. Part 2 begins on Chapter 4 Voltron: Legendary Defender
1. The Purple Paladin

**OKAY so this is my first Voltron fanfic - it might be a little rough around the edges and most of this was done at like 3am so bear with me here! This is part 1/2 and for now it's very PG but expect things to get a little heated in the next part.**

 **Naturally, all characters belong to their respective creators. Oh, and spoiler alert for anyone who hasn't seen Season 2.**

 **Anyhow, I shall stop disclaiming myself - enjoy!**

Paladins plus near death experiences had become such a routine occurrence that by now, it took a lot to truly shake one up in their boots. The last mission, by an outsider's perspective or, really, anyone who wasn't Lance, had been exactly the same. As Pidge had kindly pointed out to an ashen faced Lance the day of the event itself, there was an unwritten formula to how these things usually went: Paladin does something stupid. Paladin gets in trouble. Paladin is almost killed. Other Paladins come to save them. _Insert hostile species here_ is thwarted by other Paladins. Hoorah! Victory for Voltron. So what's the problem, Lance? And that was the question that had sent him to the brink of insanity. After days of nail-biting, hair pulling and nervously pacing the castle's corridors, all in an attempt to distract himself from what had happened –or to be more accurate – _why_ it had happened, Lance could now admit to himself that he was well and truly screwed. Just not in the way that he wanted to be. So what mystical happening of immeasurable bounds could have shaken up Voltron's seemingly least shakeable Paladin? There is a simple, one word answer.

Keith. Keith happened. Only not in his usual kamikaze Keith way (that was Lance's new nickname for him – that and "mullet-head", the classic). This time, Keith happened in a way that Lance had no protocol for. His shields-up had been completely defenceless against this kind of Keith, because it was a kind of Keith that Lance had never seen before.

Okay, enough brooding, Lance – here's how it went:

"At ease, Paladins! We're on course for a new planet!" Coran bounced into the dining room where the only Paladin not lying half-dead from exhaustion on the table was Shiro who had jumped to attention at Coran's entrance.

Lance peeled his face off the table. " _Another_ distress signal? Gimme a break, it's been – what – 10 SECONDS since the last time a Galra fleet came to bite our asses?"

Pidge leaned back in her chair, cross eyed. "I'm seeing double. Anyone else seeing double?"

"Relax, team – no distress signal. Just a surprise." Coran winked.

Keith frowned from the far end of the table, his chin resting on the top. "A surprise? Why do I have a bad feeling?"

Allura followed suit in Coran's wake, something sheepish about her smile. "Paladins, I understand that – well – you've all worked very hard lately" -

"Aaaaaaand the understatement of the year award goes tooo…" Lance jibed.

Allura cleared her throat and ignored him. "SO, I think you all deserve some rest. Recreation, if you like."

The Paladins exchanged a glance around the table.

"Thank you, princess." Said Shiro stoically, "that is very considerate of you, but our objective as the pilots of Voltron is to ensure the safety of the universe at _all_ times. Surely" –

"Shiro, if you say one more word, I will throw this food goo so fast at your face that you'll need a bionic head to match your arm." Hunk threatened, low and serious from the food machine.

Allura laughed. "Yes, Shiro, you are right and we shall move at the slightest sign of danger, but coincidentally we've drifted into the Perusa Quadrant" –

Coran squealed. "My favourite!"

Allura threw him a hard look. "Which incidentally is home to" –

"Wait, Princess!" Coran gasped. "Don't tell them. It's supposed to be a surprise!"

Pidge narrowed her eyes. "Why so mysterious, Coran?"

"That's what they used to call me. Coran, Coran, the mystery man. It was a popular jingle back in the day."

A telepathic face-palm passed between each of the Paladins. Lance rose from the table.

"Well, if anyone needs me" –

"I'd suggest changing into your swimwear." Said Allura.

A collective gasp sounded from around the table. Shiro's expression broke into one of utter, child-like excitement. "Are we going to an ocean?"

"OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod we're going on an intergalactic vacation!" Hunk exclaimed.

"Swimwear?" Pidge repeated, thoroughly displeased.

"I'm saying nothing," Said Coran with obviously feigned innocence, "Only this: expect hot weather and some high waves. Time to get the old board out, I think!"

And, as they loaded off the ship, donned in their best swimwear and inflatable rubber floats, the planet of Akwa Major was presented to them in all of its… glory.

"Here it is, folks! Akwa Major!" Coran announced, arms flung wide.

"Uhm… this is kind of…" Lance started, glancing around their surroundings with a grimace.

The light, dusty pink sand that they had all envisaged was more like dark grey sludge, peppered with jagged black rocks and razor sharp shells. The supposed 'crystalline turquoise' ocean was a roiling, dark green lagoon of depths which no one would want to explore.

"Coran was right about one thing." Pidge started, "It's hot, alright."

"It's gross." Said Hunk, "Like the air is sticking to my skin."

"Anyone for a swim?" Shiro asked.

"Over my dead body." Said Keith, the tone of his voice already dead.

"Stay here any longer and that might just happen." Said Lance.

Coran strode ahead, his surf board clamped under his arm. "Come on now, Paladins, it's not that bad! I reckon this place is still fit for a picnic."

Allura sighed, the disappointment evident on her face as she gazed around. "Akwa Major used to be an Alteian resort." She explained as Coran stuck his surf board in grey sludge, examining the effect inquisitively. "We used to come here every year. It was truly beautiful – incredible blue skies, beaches as far as the eye could see, the water so clear that every fish and reef could be seen in immaculate detail." She sighed again. "Now look at it."

"Do you think there are Galra here?" Shiro asked.

"Nah." Said Lance. "It wouldn't be in such a state if there was _anything_ here. The only Galra on this planet is Keith, ha ha ha!"

That did not have the reaction that Lance had hoped for. No one laughed. Certainly not Keith. But he'd expected that. However, rather than coming back at him with an equally insulting wise-crack, Keith looked at him, hurt, before directing his gaze at the ground. "Thanks, Lance." He said quietly, before marching onto the planet, and to the edge of the dark water.

"Way to go, Lance." Said Pidge, rolling her eyes.

"What?! I didn't mean anything by it, it was just a joke!" Lance defended, knowing full well that what he had said had crossed a line. He scratched his head and glared at the back of Keith's closed, stocky frame. "Ah, quiznak. Why does he have to be such an emo?"

Paladins and princesses alike ventured onto the weird, sludgy beach.

"My feet are stinging. I don't think that's supposed to happen." Said Hunk, hopping from foot to foot.

"Don't worry about that, it's just the Microactapods. They eat dead skin. Handy for a nice pedicure." Said Coran, stroking his moustache.

"Are you sure it's just dead skin they're eating?"

Turns out that a dying beach planet isn't so bad. Or at least, it wasn't for Hunk, Pidge, Shiro and Coran who were having a marvellous time examining the tiny specimens in the sand and the molecular structure of the sea shells and making sludge castles that only stayed upright for a grand total of five ticks before sliding back into an icky pile. In her begrudging disappointment, Allura stayed near the castle's entrance, content to watch the others have fun rather than indulge in the sticky pleasures of the sludge beach. Lance, however, was very uncomfortable. And little did he know that by the end of the day 'very uncomfortable' would become 'very, _very, VERY_ uncomfortable' at best. He knew that he should apologise. He knew that he was wrong for what he'd said to Keith but then there was the voice telling him 'it's just a joke' and 'since when has Keith ever apologised for anything, anyway?' the devil on his shoulder usually won him over, but despite that, Lance resolved to talk to Keith, anyway. Even if it was only to justify his stupid remark. As he approached the water's edge, Lance kept his eye on Keith's back. It was curious, he thought. Keith's skin wasn't the least bit purple. More than once Lance had found himself eyeing Keith's exposed skin for signs of discoloration or an abundance of hair. But Keith had none of that. Lance doubted that he could even grow a beard. Instead, there was just smooth, white skin. But it wasn't white, Lance thought as he advanced carefully, it had an olive tinge to it, growing ever so slightly darker near the base of his spine and the lean, curved muscles of his back – wait what? No – Lance shook his head. Now was not the time to think about Keith's astoundingly well put together anatomy.

In his absorbed state, Lance had missed all of the crucial signs that could have stopped the day's terrible events from unfolding. He hadn't noticed Keith lean towards the water and brace himself. He hadn't noticed, until a split second too late, Keith's legs bunching as his arms pointed above his head and met at the fingertips. It was only when Keith's feet had left the ground and he was poised, mid-air, into an athlete style dive above the churning, soupy waters that Lance realised what Keith was doing.

"KEITH, NO!" Lance shouted, his arm outstretched. His fingers gripped empty air where Keith had been less than a second before. He deftly entered the water with barely a splash, his feet the last thing to disappear beneath the disturbed surface.

And he didn't reappear.

Panic. Dread. Cold, clammy terror and worry plagued Lance over the next few minutes.

"How are you all so calm?!" He shouted, back inside the ship, "We need to get down there, right now! Keith could be dead already! What if he drowned? What if he" - ?

"Lance, stop." Said Hunk, laying a hand on Lance's shoulder. "Calm down. We need to think."

"We need to _act_." Said Lance, shrugging him off, "Like. _NOW_."

"Lance is right." Said Shiro. "The longer we wait, the more danger Keith might be in. One of us needs to go down there."

"The scanners aren't showing any currents." Said Coran. "Did Keith say anything before he jumped? What did he see?"

"Why did he suddenly dive in like that? It doesn't make any sense." Said Pidge.

"Why does Keith do anything?! It's just Keith! Kamikaze Keith!" Lance screeched, losing his mind.

Allura stepped between them all. "Okay, all of you – stop. The logical thing to do is to send Lance down to rescue Keith."

The other Paladins raised their eyebrows, even Lance stopped waving his arms in the air. "Me? Just me?"

"Think about it." Said Allura, "Your lion is equipped to deal with the water better than any of the others."

"I second that." Said Hunk. "He destroyed that Baku monster on the mermaid planet."

"If you need backup, Pidge will be on hand in the green lion as a last resort." Said Allura, "But for now, Lance, calm down and get to your lion."

In any other situation, Lance would have been more than reluctant to enter the depths of Akwa Major, even in his lion – but the thought of what was at stake was much more terrifying than whatever was in the water. Besides, he didn't want the last thing that he'd say to Keith to be an insult. Not that they ever talked about anything meaningful…

Lance gulped as his lion dived into the water headfirst, its beaming yellow eyes the only source of light in the depths.

"Okay guys," He said into the helmet, "I'm in."

"Any sign of Keith yet?" Allura's voice echoed around the headpiece.

Lance squinted. "Not yet. It's just black. This could take forever." He tapped his fingers against the controls, "Come on, blue…"

Like a dream, the master control panel where Lance could slot his Bayard glowed a brilliant blue. _His lion was guiding him_ , and if she was guiding him, that meant that Keith couldn't be dead. "Agh, baby, I love you!" Lance cried, jabbing his Bayard into the panel.

"…thanks. Love you too, man." Came Hunk's sarcastic reply into his helmet, "But more importantly, what's going on?"

"I think – I think my lion is telling me how to find Keith."

The sonic weapon that had blasted the Baku on the mermaid planet emerged once again, only this time it wasn't primed to destroy. A high pitched series of _beeps_ travelled through the water faster than his lion ever could and reverberated back seconds later. Through his lion's eyes, Lance saw what those beeps translated to. _Images_. Flashing, fading images of rocks, tails of seaweed, long dead reefs and – a structure far into the depths – Lance saw it all.

"Sonar!" Lance exclaimed. "She's using sonar to show me what's down there! I – I can see stuff! Cool!"

The images continued to be transmitted to Lance in waves, allowing him to manoeuvre through the impossible depths to the strange structures he kept seeing. The closer he got, they bigger they seemed, until they loomed around he and his lion, and he could make them out without the sonar.

"There's something living down here." Said Lance, circling the structures. Like pillars, they towered, complex and strange and white. "It's almost like… a city."

Surrounded by the structures, Lance suddenly felt very small. "He's got to be in here."

Each structure was dotted with circular holes, indented in uniform lines. There was no way these things were natural.

"Lance, find Keith as quickly as you can and _get out of there_." Coran's voice sounded, fierce and urgent.

"Why? What's down here?"

A hesitant pause followed. "We called them the Sirens." Said Coran, "Back when Akwa Major was still a resort, there was only a small colony of these creatures, strictly limited to one island. It looks like they've taken over."

"What do they do? What are they?" Lance demanded, adrenaline pounding through his veins. Danger loomed, rising with the height of the quiet structures, as though a thousand eyes were watching him.

"They don't drown people, if that's what you're thinking." Said Coran. "It's much worse. They bleed a person dry of all their emotions, sucking out their innermost thoughts and exposing their fears, their loves… they feed off life energy, sucking the soul out of their victims."

"Great." Said Lance. "Well, thankfully they won't get much out of Keith."

A resounding silence followed that statement. Lance interpreted it as a silent agreement. And then – Keith!

Keith's face was looking at him from one of the windows in the structure directly ahead of him. Lance blinked. The mullet, the dark, hostile eyes – _yes_ – it was him, no question.

"I found him!"

Lance thrust his lion into gear and sped through the water towards the window. It was big enough for his lion to enter, and by the time he had, Keith had moved. A tunnel-like corridor wound into the structure, and Keith was at the end of it. Keith's bare skin shone a ghostly white in the glow of the lion's eyes. It was mesmerising. Lance shook his head, confused, when he realised that Keith was moving.

"Where the heck are you going?" Lance raged, following him. Keith beckoned, an odd expression on his face, and darted around a corner.

"Lance, have you got him?" Shiro demanded through the receiver.

"I – Yeah, but he wants me to follow him – I think he found something."

"Get him inside your lion, you need to get out of there."

"I'm trying!"

By the time Lance had rounded the same corner, Keith was at the other end of another long, winding tunnel.

"Cut the crap, Keith! We need to leave!" Lance yelled, losing his patience.

Keith grinned and began to walk backwards slowly. His legs started to disappear into the floor. Lance shook his head – no – his legs weren't disappearing, he was descending down some steps, and the tunnel was becoming too narrow for his lion to manoeuvre through.

"Ugh, that's it." Lance grumbled, setting his visor to full coverage. Ejected from his lion, Lance swam to the steps. It was now that he realised they were getting dangerously deep into the structure, and all the while the tunnels had been leading downwards into its core. Keith was at the bottom of the steps by the time Lance had reached the top. How did he get there so fast?  
"Keith! Dude, come on!" It struck him, then, that Keith wasn't wearing a visor. How was he breathing?

"They protected me." Said Keith suddenly, as though he'd read his mind. His voice resounded through the corridor, loud and clear. It was strange, he hardly seemed to move his lips.

" _They_?"

Keith nodded. He beckoned again, "Come on, Lance." He said. Somehow, the way Keith used his name urged him not to argue back, and he swam after Keith who was now running.

"Guys, I think Keith is trying to show me something. It might be important."

"Lance – Just get him to your lion. We don't have time to mess around." Said Pidge. "I don't want to be the one rescuing your sorry ass again."

Lance snorted, "Pidge, please. I think you'll find I'm perfectly capable of rescuing my own sorry – huh?"

Keith had disappeared. His ghostly light faded as though it had never existed. A long, wide tunnel lay ahead of Lance, and at the end of it, an opening that led to a navy blue light. Against his better instinct, Lance chose to follow it, every nerve screaming at him to swim back to his lion.

"I don't get it, he ran this way, right?" He muttered to himself.

"Lance, did you just say ' _ran_ '?" Came Shiro's voice.

"Yeah, he did and I swear he" – then Lance realised. "We can't run under water."

"I don't think that's Keith you were following." Said Shiro. "You need to get out of there."

Lance grit his teeth and stopped at the entrance to the strange, blue light. "But what about the real Keith? He's gotta be here somewhere." Activating his Bayard, Lance advanced through the entrance.

The structure's core was a huge, domed room whose walls glowed dark blue, and in the middle of the room, lay Keith. The _real_ Keith. Bundled into the foetal position, Keith lay on the ground, his back curved towards Lance – the very same back that he had found himself lost in admiring less than an hour ago. Admiring? No. Just looking at.

"Keith!" Lance called, swimming towards him. "Keith, is that you?"

Keith responded to the sound of Lance's voice, unfolding and lifting his head which, Lance was half-relieved to see, had been protected by a bubble of oxygen that only the creatures could have created.

And this is where Lance's torment began.

When Keith's eyes found Lance, his expression expanded into a beaming smile, one of pure happiness and relief and everything in between. Lance stopped.

"Guys, there's something wrong with Keith."

"Lance!" Keith cried. "Lance, it's really you! I was just dreaming about you."

Lance stared down at Keith. "Uhm, what? Okay, buddy – whatever – let's just get out of here, okay?"

"What's going on? Are you sure that's Keith?" Allura spoke this time.

"I mean… he's not –ahem- _himself_ , but yeah… pretty sure it's him."

"Don't waste a second – get him out."

Lance hovered above Keith, "Come on, man! Let's go. My lion isn't far away."

Keith blinked up at him. His pupils were dilated, like huge black discs, and he gazed at Lance like there was no one in the world he would rather see.

"But, Lance…" Said Keith languidly, rubbing his eyes, "Why don't we stay a while? Just you, me… this creepy room… I'm so warm right now. It'll be even warmer with you here."

"No." Said Lance instinctively, "no, no, no, no, no – we need to _LEAVE. NOW. Evil, emotion-sucking creatures are on the loose_. Does that mean anything to you?"

Keith lifted his arms toward Lance. "Carry me?" He asked, his voice filled with a bizarre, soppy tone that Lance had never heard, nor once imagined in his wildest thoughts, coming from Keith. "I'm tired, Lance. Hold me."

 _HOLD ME?!_ Lance gaped. "K-Keith?"

"Lance? What's wrong?" Allura persisted.

Battling with his conscience, Lance was stuck. Carry Keith, and indulge his weird, horribly romantic sounding request? Or stay and be potentially killed by monsters of the deep? He was half-tempted to go with the latter. But with a growl of frustration, Lance unceremoniously bent and bundled Keith into his arms. Keith laid his head against Lance's chest and closed his eyes, sighing deeply.

"Thank you, Lance. You're so kind, you know that? So, so kind… and warm."

Lance shivered and stared straight ahead as he swam with Keith in his arms. "This is not real. This is just some – weird drug or something. Yeah."

"Weird drug?" Said Hunk in his ear. "What weird drug?"

And then, "Lance, what's Keith doing?" Said Coran.

"I don't know." Said Lance, not willing to admit anything Keith had said, "Babbling."

"Good, so he's talking." Said Coran. "That means the Sirens haven't started to feed on his soul yet. They just got to the exposing part. Expect him to be brutally honest for a while. Everything that Keith is saying is unfiltered; a true replay of his thoughts. That might result in some rather nasty insults to you, Lance."

Insults. Right.

"So… everything he's saying is what he's actually thinking? That's what you're saying?" Said Lance, a new kind of dread building in his abdomen.

"Yep! You've got it."

"I can't do this." He whispered.

"Am I heavy, Lance?" Keith pandered. "I'm sorry… you should just leave me here. Save yourself."

"No way! Shut up."

Keith sighed again, low and far too long. "This is what's so amazing about you, Lance. You care so much about everyone. Even me."

"Keith, I will knock you out. Stop talking." Lance should be laughing. Why wasn't he laughing? This was golden. He could use this as joke material for years. But instead, he had to keep reminding himself that the only barrier between Keith's bare skin and his own was his Paladin armour. What worried him most was that he'd started to wonder what it would feel like if that barrier were to disappear, especially after Keith had so tenderly uttered the words, "Hold me."

Finally, the blue lion was in sight. That was the good news. The bad news; she was surrounded by a line of squid like entities. Their tentacles oozing a strange, dark substance and their fangs bared at Lance.

"It was a trap." He said. "They're here."

But then – they weren't – it was the other Paladins, Princess Allura and Coran. Shiro stepped forward, his hand outstretched.

"Come with us, Lance. You're the leader of Voltron now – you've proven yourself to be more than worthy."

"Shiro?" He uttered, his grip on Keith loosening.

"Lance?" Shiro's voice echoed around his helmet, but the Shiro ahead of him hadn't spoken. Lance shook his head, and the squid creatures were back.

"But – that was you!" He cried.

"The Sirens are toying with your mind, Lance." Said the real Coran. "It's how they trapped you both – don't let them!"

Gritting his teeth, Lance swung Keith over his left shoulder and one-handedly attempted to operate his Bayard, blasting at the Sirens. They scattered, a shrill screech sounding through the water, but under here, the blast was little more than a wave of heated pressure. It wasn't enough to kill them. He had to get to his lion.

Using the blasts as a distraction, Lance swam as hard as he could, pedalling his legs to his lion. But it wasn't fast enough, not with the added bulk of Keith and his Bayard. Just before he could get inside, he was surrounded on all sides. Using his Bayard, he was able to scatter the sirens to his right, but the ones on his left were closing in fast. Suddenly, Keith jerked into action from Lance's shoulder and kicked hard at the closest Siren which was sent reeling backwards, before flopping, spent, against Lance again.

"Nice!" Lance laughed, jumping into his lion with the second of time Keith had gained him.

As he anticipated, the hoard of Sirens now flooding the tunnel cowered under the blue lions' glare. "That's right, squids. Now who's running?"

"Don't try and fight them, Lance, just get out of there." Allura commanded through the receiver.

"Kill em, Lance! Destroy them!" Keith shouted in a slur from behind the pilot chair. "Knock them on the head and… and yeah!" He sounded drunk.

"… Is that Keith?"

"You tell me." Lance breathed.

Getting past the Sirens and out of the structure was easy once Lance was in full control of his Lion. What was difficult was the thought of getting to the surface. What if Keith was still acting like this when he got to the others?

As if on cue, there was a sharp tug on his sleeve.

"Lance, the floor is cold. I wanna be warm again."

Lance huffed. "Too bad. Stop acting weird and sleep it off or something."

"I just want to be close to you, Lance."

Before Lance could stop him, Keith was piling onto his lap. The lion jeered to the right as Lance lost control of the gears.

"Hey, hey, hey what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Keith wound his arms around Lance's neck like a small child and snuggled closer, his legs thrown over Lance's.

Lance felt every muscle in his body stiffen at this contact. This wasn't Keith. This wasn't Keith at all.

"D-dude." Was all he could say. And it was pathetic, really. All Keith wanted to do after his ordeal with the squid aliens was sleep in Lance's lap. Was that so weird? Yes, was the short answer. But then Lance told himself: he'd be willing to bet that it would be exactly the same if Pidge or Shiro or Hunk or anyone else had come to rescue him. When Keith said that he wanted to be _close_ to Lance, he didn't mean Lance exclusively. He just meant close to _someone_. Lance gulped and repeated this logic in his head over and over as he raced to the surface. It made sense, really. Keith pretended to be so cold, so distant to others, so lacking in a need for human contact, when all the while that was what he wanted most in the world. Lance wasn't special, he was just… there.

"I'm nearly at the beach." Said Lance, controlling the shake in his voice.

"Good. I'm waiting." Said Pidge, "You sure took your time."

"You try fighting off mind controlling squid people, Pidge." Lance snapped. "Not to mention Keith…"

"Is he okay?"

Lance forced himself to glance down to where Keith was pressed against his chest again. Keith's eyelids fluttered, jittering between closed and half open. His dark eyelashes were so long that they brushed against his cheekbones. Like a girl. Lance gulped – that wasn't true. He'd never seen a girl with lashes like those; not real ones, anyway. He tried to be indifferent to the strong arms tightening around his neck. "Yeah, he's just… resting."

When they reached the castle, Lance realised with horror that he wasn't strong enough to prise Keith out of his arms. No matter how much he begged, Keith wouldn't move, his vice-like grip on Lance becoming tighter the more he protested.

"Fine." Said Lance roughly, "Have it your way."

And with all the lofty pride he could muster, Lance bundled a half-naked Keith out of the lion in a full blown, unmistakeable Princess-carry to the awaiting Paladins and Alteians. Pidge's jaw dropped. Hunk made an overstated effort to look anywhere _except_ at Lance and Keith. Shiro fought back a grin and Allura's eyes widened and she gasped a little: "Oh, my." Coran didn't seem to notice anything wrong with the picture.

"Shall we – ahem – get him to a healing pod?" Shiro suggested, covering his mouth in a failed attempt to hide his amusement.

"Nah, he doesn't need a healing pod." Said Coran, "Just some rest will do it. The effects will wear off in a few hours. He wasn't there nearly long enough for any permanent damage to be done."

Lance glowered straight into the faces of each of the Paladins.

"Anyone gonna take him off me?"

"I'd say Keith's pretty comfortable with you." Said Hunk, almost as giggly as Shiro.

Lance could feel his eye twitching involuntarily.

Coran continued to be completely oblivious. "Seeing as you're already carrying him, why don't you take him to his room?"

"Yeah." Said Lance dryly. "Sure. Great idea. Pidge, come with me."

"But – I"-

"PIDGE."

Once in Keith's room, after a very silent and awkward walk through the castle, Keith relented his anaconda grip on Lance's neck and flopped onto his bed.

"Finally." Said Lance, thoroughly irritated and absolutely refusing to show any wavering signs of weakness to Pidge.

"You should stay with him." Said Pidge.

"Not you too." Lance protested, running his hands through his hair. "I went through all that and – and" –

"No, I'm not kidding." Said Pidge seriously. "He doesn't look well. I don't think he should be left alone."

" _You_ stay with him then." Said Lance, pouting.

Keith groaned from the bed. "Lance." He grumbled, that dreaded soppy tone seeping into his voice again. Lance's heart dropped to his stomach. _Don't say anything weird, don't say anything weird,_ he begged, sending the mental message to Keith's brain with all of his will.

Pidge shrugged. "He seems to want you with him, so…"

Lance scowled. "It's not – I mean – it's not like that."

Pidge stared at him levelly. "Like what? Jeez, Lance, chill out. There isn't a problem here. Just do the man a favour, will ya? Heck knows, you owe him one after earlier."

And that was it, the stab of guilt that Lance needed to keep him glued to the floor of Keith's room while Pidge left. And she was right. If it hadn't been for him, they might not have got into this mess in the first place. Keith might not have had his brains fiddled with by squid aliens and ended up in such a state. Lance sighed and made himself face the heap of Keith on the bed.

Keith's eyes were open. Watching him. That got to Lance. He felt his stomach flip.

"Hey, err" – He started, unsure where he was going. "Wassup, buddy?"

"I was thinking." Said Keith, his voice low. He almost sounded like himself again. There was no hint of a smile in his eyes now. His gaze was intense and bore through Lance like a steel drill.

"Y-you were? About what?" Asked Lance, unsure how recovered Keith was by now. Was he back to normal?

"If we had a kid," Said Keith, "it would be a purple Paladin."

Lance stared at him. "What."

Keith straightened up on his bed, his dilated eyes twinkling. "Think about it, though. You're the red lion – I mean – _I'm_ the red lion – you're the blue lion… mix em together aaaand… _PURPLE LION!_ "

Lance pinched the bridge of his nose. Part of him wanted to laugh, pretend like this was just some weird thing that Keith had said. But this was beyond weird. He decided to use logic instead.

"No, Keith. For that to happen, the red lion and the blue lion would have to mate. If they can even… I mean, they're robots for a start. And we're not lions. We're pilots. Besides, who says that just because they're red and blue it would make purple? What if it made – I dunno – orange or something?"

Keith pouted, apparently displeased by this answer. "I tried to do your thing and it didn't work."

Lance held his arms by his sides. He just blinked at Keith. He couldn't believe he was having this conversation.

"My thing? What do you mean, 'my thing'?"

Keith shrugged. "It doesn't matter." He sighed. "I'm cold."

"If you're cold, then get under the blanket or something. Go to sleep. You need to sleep this off."

"I don't want a blanket." Keith protested, glaring at his crossed arms. He was sulking, like a little kid.

"Then don't complain about being cold!"

"But, Lance, you're warm. Come here."

Lance's heart sank, _Oh boy_. He was doing that again. "Keith, I" –

"Please." Keith looked at him, an exaggerated pout wobbling his lower lip. Lance couldn't help but be reminded of his three year old niece, and he was weak to her tears. He only hoped to god Keith didn't cry – that would add to the list of 'weird things that Keith has done today' that Lance was steadily racking up in his head. Lance sighed; perhaps if he resolved himself to view Keith as a little kid that needed comforting, he could stay objective about this. All part of another mission… nothing… _weird_.

But scooching onto the small bed in full Paladin armour and linking his arm around Keith was weird. And Keith fitting his frame to curl in around Lance's chest was weird. So was the long, heartfelt sigh as Keith melted against him. Everything about this was weird, and Lance felt his heart rate accelerate to three times its normal pace the more weird it got.

And then, "Lance, why do you hate me?"

Lance froze. "H-hate you? I don't hate you, Keith."

Keith was silent. Lance didn't like that. "Hey, say something." He pestered, shaking Keith a little with his arm.

"You're doing all this for me, but – just out of duty, right? It's another part of a mission. I'm a chore to you." Keith said quietly. It was the same tone of voice he'd used when Lance had made that joke on Akwa Major – and Keith had been himself then.

"N-no that's not true." And Lance didn't want to admit _why_ it wasn't true. He was _trying_ to see Keith as another part of a mission, but he just couldn't. "I really panicked when you jumped into the water like that." He said. That was okay to admit, right? It was kind of an understatement – he'd flailed more than anyone else. "What'd you do that for, anyway?"

Before he'd rescued Keith, Lance had imagined shouting that at him later – _"Why the hell did you jump, Keith? You're such an idiot, why do you always put us in danger?"_ He hadn't envisaged doing it with Keith curled in his arms.

"Marmora." Said Keith.

"Huh?"

"It was the blade of Marmora. I – I saw one under the surface of the water. You know, I thought – one of them must have come to find us… what if he's drowning? I thought. I wanted to save him."

So that was why. "It was the Sirens, Keith. You must know that now." Said Lance carefully.

"I know – but – all I could think about was Thace before we went to fight Zarkon, remember? You didn't see him, Lance. I did. He sacrificed himself for us. It should have been me."

Lance pulled away from Keith and took him by the shoulders, making him face him. "What are you talking about? If we'd lost you we wouldn't have been able to form Voltron! We would have _all_ been killed. It wasn't your fault, Keith."

Keith dropped his eyes away from Lance. "There it is again. _Voltron_. Like that's all that matters. Is that all we are? Pieces of a weapon?"

Lance grit his teeth. "No. It's not that…" _Say it_ , said his brain, _say it,_ "We would have lost _you_ , Keith. _I_ would have lost you and – and that's worse than losing Voltron."

Lance hated that this was the most honest thing he'd said all day. But Keith's reaction was worth it. His eyes met Lance's, their pupils still wider than they should be, and his lips parted.

"Do you… do you mean that?" He breathed. The pallor on Keith's cheeks transformed from grey to a deep, dark blush.

Lance's insides squirmed. It would be easier if Keith had just punched him in the face or something and given him a cold, lock-down stare. Or even if he'd rolled his eyes and given Lance his finest jab – he would have been able to deal with that, but _this_ Keith pulled all of Lance's guards down. One by one. Piece by piece.

"Yeah, man. 'Course I do." Said Lance as nonchalantly as he could, aware that his fingers were still digging into Keith's shoulders. He loosened his grip. He was surprised when Keith leaned away from him and nestled into the blankets instead. Perhaps it was for the best. He wasn't sure how safe cuddling was after that undoubtedly maybe slightly romantic confession on Lance's part. Besides, Keith was still unabashedly embarrassed – his face was glowing and he was biting his lip, his gaze averted from Lance.

Lance felt a jolt of despair as the word _'sexy'_ jumped to mind. No, no, no, no – his automatic denial reflex kicked in. Keith was _not_ sexy. There was nothing sexy about Keith. Not his outrageously long eyelashes or his thick, black hair or his exposed shoulders peeking out from under the blankets. Not the shadow of his defined collar-bones flexing under the quickening pulse on his neck… aaaagh, quiznak.


	2. Turn out the Light

**_Okay_** **so this thing turned out to be wayy longer than I thought it would be so I decided to make it 3 parts instead of 2, making this part entirely about Keith and Lance alone together** **because borderline smutty stuff in one chapter is way more satisfying** **AHEM -** ** _anyway -_**

 **Even though this is a short one, I will conclude everything in part 3. :)**

 _"Lance, could you turn out the light?"_

It sounded innocent, but there was meaning behind that question and both of them had known it. Lance wasn't sure _when_ the effects of the Sirens wore off on Keith, only that it was definitely long before Lance had climbed into bed with him… half-naked. They'd been talking. Just talking, for the first time, honestly and openly. Lance told Keith about his family, his huge, ginormous family that, back on Earth, he couldn't get away from for five seconds. Keith listened and laughed. Lance felt that weird thing in his stomach again when Keith laughed – it was such a rare sound, low, husky and natural. Keith's pupils gradually began to get smaller as he normalised. And Lance pretended not to notice. He could have left and gone to his own room - fallen, exhausted back into his own bed and slept three days' worth, but he stayed. And then this happened:

"Lance, could you turn out the light?"

Lance gulped. He was still dressed in his Paladin armour. Keith waited expectantly, not a hint of the puppy-eyed, child-like sulkiness left. He was normal again.

"Uhm…" Lance started. "Y'know, I can go if you wanna get some sleep or – y'know, rest – well, I guess they're the same but"-

"You could just sleep here." Said Keith. It came out in a thoughtless beat, and Lance wasn't sure for a second what Keith meant by 'sleep'.

Lance rest his elbow against Keith's wall and leant in an attempt to look cool. He slipped and thwacked his head against it instead. _Smooth, Lance, real smooth_ , his inner bitch snarked at him. Keith's laughter sounded - genuine and rough, again.

"I meant to do that." Said Lance seriously.

"Yeah. _Sure_." Said Keith, still laughing.

There was a long silence in which Lance knew he had to make a decision fast. Turn out the light – that's all he needed to do. It was hardly a difficult one was it? But what did 'turning out the light' _entail_? If Lance thought of Keith as a brother then 'turning out the light' would just mean what it said. But prior to Keith asking him to 'turn out the light' there'd been all this touchy stuff, all this heart to heart chat, and in Lance's limited (very limited) experience with girls, 'turning out the light' was, more often than not, the suggestion that more touchy stuff should happen, only the kind of touchy stuff that's inappropriate to do when in lit surroundings. So what, then, should he do? Was he misjudging the situation entirely? Had he been from the start? After all, Keith had only kind of cuddled him a little bit. That could have been in a friendly way. And all this talk about not wanting to lose each other and families and stuff, that was just bro talk, right? Yeah, they were bonding. So when Keith said 'turn out the light' it was because he was tired. And by offering for Lance to sleep there, presumably in his bed _with him,_ he was just being kind, you know, saving him the trouble of walking through the castle all the way back to his own room.

"I'm gonna turn out the light!" Said Lance resolutely, springing from Keith's bed and marching to the wall switch.

"Finally." Said Keith, rolling his eyes. But he was smiling too, so that was okay.

Then Lance turned out the light.

Plunged into sudden darkness was a bit of a shock. Lance couldn't see Keith, but he could _hear_ him - his breathing from the bed, long and tired. Lance wasn't sure why his heart was beating so fast. In the dark it sounded louder. _Quiznak_ , could Keith hear his heartbeat? He sure hoped not. For a solid three seconds, Lance stood by the light switch, momentarily stunned by the intimate proximity of the situation and _he wasn't even in the bed yet._

"Uhm, are you coming in?" Keith asked uncertainly.

So Lance had been right, _he did mean to share the bed with him_. Well, it made sense – he had been laying on that bed for a solid few hours, so what was the difference now? The difference was this: it was dark. And he had to take his armour off.

"S-sure. One second." _His voice cracked_. For a moment, Lance sounded like he was entering puberty again, and Keith snorted from the bed.

Definitely normal Keith. So it was safe. Safe from what, Lance still wasn't sure. But safe.

Lance peeled off his armour and couldn't believe how sweaty he'd gotten. It was kind of gross, actually, and he considered warning Keith but then thought - why would Keith care? Left in nothing but his underwear (he wished he'd chosen a more flattering pair), Lance proceeded to the bed. It wasn't a large bed, so there was really absolutely no way of avoiding skin-to-skin contact. Keith's thigh pressed against Lance's knee, not intentionally probably, but Lance felt a jolt shoot right from that place and spread through his lower half like electrical liquid.

"Yikes, you're cold." He gasped to disguise why his body had involuntarily jerked at the contact.

"Freezing." Keith replied. And this was the part that really _freaking annoyed_ Lance; a few hours ago, Keith would have concluded that 'freezing' with a soppy, mind-numbingly embarrassing, _"Hold me, Lance. Warm me up, Lance"_ or something of that calibre. But instead, Keith left that sentence totally, ambiguously open. It would have been so much easier for Lance if he was acting up the same way he was earlier. Then he'd have no trouble opening up his arms and enveloping a cold Keith into his own, sweaty and overheated body. But _no._ Keith - Difficult Keith, constantly leaving Lance with these insane ultimatums that led to an internal battle which could potentially explode into something totally embarrassing or dignity-destroying or both. So Lance decided to be equally annoying.

"Well, I'm burning up." In the dark, he smirked. _What do you make of that, Keith?_

Lance nearly bolted when Keith's icy hand reached out and touched Lance's shoulder like it was nothing.

"Hmm, yeah. You're right." He said calmly. _Calmly._

Keith's hand stayed there, his palm splayed over Lance's skin. "What are you doing? Conducting heat?" Asked Lance dryly, still thoroughly annoyed at Keith's ambiguity.

"No." Said Keith. "Just touching."

That threw Lance off guard. Was he still affected? Normal Keith wouldn't 'just touch' him, would he? Not _like this_.

"Uh huh." Said Lance, unable to think of a comeback. "Y'know if you're cold, you could uhm" –

"What?"

"Y'know, like, I'm really warm so, if you want you could like get closer or something if you wanted, I don't know." Lance squeezed his eyes shut in a violent cringe, grateful that Keith couldn't see him. Where was his sweet, smooth-talking coolness? Down the drain, apparently.

The next moment, Keith's cold body was pressing against Lance's chest, his head resting beneath Lance's chin. His arms were drawn up to his chin and he was shivering; he hadn't been lying when he'd said he was freezing. Awkwardly, Lance snaked his arms around Keith, one underneath his waist and the other over his back, his hand coming to rest near the base of Keith's spine. He instantly regretted that decision. _WHY HAD HE PUT HIS HAND THERE?!_ That was like – like he _meant_ something with this, but now he couldn't move it because that would be blatantly acknowledging the fact that his hand was located in a weird position. Weird, as in, if he moved his hand any further down, he'd be slipping over extremely non-platonic territory. Keith's shuddering breaths warmed Lance's neck and slowly, he uncurled his arms and laid one hand to rest in the dip of Lance's waist. A few minutes passed this way, neither daring to break the silence and neither daring to move, and all the while Lance was becoming increasingly aware of the demands of his lower half, doing everything he could do keep his hips poised away from Keith because nothing – _nothing_ would be worse than Keith discovering the extent that Lance was feeling this.

"It's a good thing you're hot." Said Keith, his mouth moving against Lance's chin. When had he got there? When had he moved? Lance was rapidly losing track of reality.

"That's what all the ladies tell me." Said Lance – an automated response and undeniably inappropriate in this situation. Keith's grip on Lance's waist tightened.

"Well, _I'm_ telling you." He said through gritted teeth.

Lance's heart stopped.

What? What was that? Keith didn't deny or make fun of his badly timed joke? And what's more – was that _jealousy_ in his voice?

"Uhm… thanks." He hadn't meant for his voice to come out like that. All raspy and breathless and unsure and _so not cool_. But Keith was making him unsure, so unsure, because the next moment, Keith's chest was rising and falling against Lance's hard and fast, his arms flexed and he was pulling Lance towards him. Lance's hand at the base of Keith's spine acted on its own, pressing Keith's hips closer. Their legs tangled and Lance felt the restless movements of Keith's cold feet pulling the sheets. Their limbs twisted and reformed around each other, every time finding another excuse to shift and move and press and pull in an ever increasingly rhythmic pattern. Lance slid his knee between Keith's legs and a soft, quiet moan left Keith, the sound pressed against Lance's throat. Lance continued the slow movement with his knee, a gentle tempo, rocking between Keith's thighs. It was like he'd pressed a button, because Keith made that wonderful sound again, his voice continuing to betray him. Gradually, Lance increased the pressure and pace of the movement, finding with each slide up and down, the rougher Keith's voice became, accompanied by harsh breaths from deep inside his chest. Then Lance didn't need to move his knee anymore, because Keith was moving on his own. Keith's hands raked the length of Lance's back and his teeth scraped against his shoulder. In a swift roll over of arms and legs and hands, Keith was suddenly on top of Lance, his face still buried in the crook of his neck. What had been some suggestive and slow grinding rapidly became what Lance could only think of as _aggressive humping_ , which was not only exhilarating as heck but confusing because – why wasn't Keith kissing him yet? Surely what they were doing now was supposed to come _after_ that? Lance sure as hell knew he wasn't going to do it first. And that was the problem. Neither of them wanted to engage in kissing first because that would make what they were doing officially romantic. This – this jostling and rubbing and shifting and rhythmic backwards and forwards could, with some stretch of the imagination, be played off as simply _moving_ , but kissing? That was a whole different thing. As long as their clothes stayed intact and their lips never touched then this was just…

Lance couldn't think anymore because Keith's voice in his ear was a bitter-sweet distraction and why was his own mouth so dry and open? Had he been making noises too and not even realised? Lance was so lost in the feel of Keith against him that he'd become numb to his own actions. His hands were in Keith's hair, on his back, drawing him closer, pulling, scratching, grabbing – he was everywhere.

Their noses touched, teasing at what could be if either one of them inched forwards a millimetre. Lance traced the length of Keith's chest, down to his stomach and felt Keith shudder hard, stopping when he found the fine line of hair trailing from his belly-button to his navel, to…

 _It would be so easy_ , only centimetres away and Lance would be crossing a whole new line over a bridge they'd only just discovered. Keith had stopped moving. He was poised, leaning on his palms above Lance as though he was about to perform a series of push-ups, his breaths low and ragged. He was _waiting_. So Lance stopped thinking. He flicked the switch in his head and plunged his thoughts into darkness, letting his fingers move on their own, communicating his desires in a way that his voice never could.


	3. Circles have no Sides

**Thanks so much for sticking with this story! I've thoroughly enjoyed it - it's the first Klance I've ever written and I'd love to know if you think it's worth writing more in the future. I really hope this last chapter ties everything up nicely and feel free to criticize/leave feedback - like I say, it would be great to see if anyone thinks I should do more!**

 **Thank you again and enjoy :)**

When Lance woke up the next morning, he was alone in Keith's bed. His first thought, rather than being anything to do with the events of the previous night, was that his mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert and god damn, why didn't he think to get some water? And then:

"Why am I naked."

It wasn't a question; he knew the answer perfectly well – it was simply a statement of disbelief; shock, surprise, and partly, yes, _horror_ , because _what came after this?_

Another realisation: "Why am I naked _and alone_?"

Now that, he didn't know the answer to, because unless he had been severely hallucinating last night, a certain mullet-head _should_ be there with him – also naked and also unabashedly embarrassed.

All he had to change into was his Paladin armour, so a detour to his room was certainly needed if he wanted to avoid any awkward encounters. Lance would have felt less on edge casually strolling among the platoons of a Galra fleet than he did leaving Keith's bedroom. With each step he was glancing over his shoulder – each open doorway he passed, he peered into – every bleep, knock and creak sent Lance reeling and then –

"Good afternoon, Lance."

Lance jumped three feet into the air at the appearance of the orange moustached Alteian from around the corner.

"C-C-C-Coran?!"

Coran recoiled, "My, my – looks like you've got a serious case of the Jumpies. What are you doing in your Paladin armour?"

"I – Uhm – I" –

"Ahh, I take it you slept with Keith, last night." Said Coran, nodding.

"WHAT?!" Lance couldn't believe his ears. "OH, slept with – you mean – sleeping, yeah…"

Slept with Keith and slept _WITH_ Keith - they were two very different things. Both of which were true in Lance's case.

Unfased, Coran continued, "Safe to say, he needed a good helping hand after the Sirens had given him the once over."

Keith had certainly had a helping hand from Lance – only not in the way that Coran was thinking.

"Uhm – yeah." Said Lance scratching his head. "Anyway I'm hella hungry so I'LL SEE YOU LATER, BYE."

Lance bolted from Coran and straight to his room. After changing, he took the longest route he possibly could to the dining room. _What if Keith is there, what if Keith is there, what if Keith is there?_ His brain nagged. He wasn't sure what he was more scared of – _ONLY_ Keith being there or _everyone_ AND Keith being there.

Lance was greeted with a wash of relief and disappointment simultaneously when he got to the dining room, because everyone - _except_ Keith - was there. All eyes turned on him when he entered.

"Yo, Lance." Pidge was the first to speak because _no one else would meet his eye_.

"Heyyy… guys, where's Keith?"

Hunk almost spat out his juice. Shiro stared dead ahead. Pidge raised a brow.

"Training deck, where else?" She replied and went back to fiddling with the radio-controlled navigator that lay dissected next to her breakfast.

"Oh…" Said Lance. It was a funny feeling – this _wanting_ to see Keith, despite Keith obviously not wanting to see him. Now that Lance thought about it, would Keith even remember what had happened? That Siren voodoo shizazzle could have gone without a trace… that's if Keith _had_ still been under its influence.

"Sooo…" Said Hunk, a twitch tugging at the corner of his lips. "How was Keith last night?"

"Good." Said Lance. He'd almost said _very good_. "I think he's feeling – _ahem –_ better."

"Did anything…" Shiro started, Hunk shot him a warning glance that Lance did not fail to miss, "Did anything happen?" He finished, his expression suspiciously vacant.

Lance felt the blood drain from his face. "Happen. Anything. No, why do you ask?" His reply was too stiff, too forced. "Did Keith say something?"

 _Damn it Keith, what have you said? WHAT HAVE YOU SAID?!_ Lance wanted to scream – but in doing so he may as well have pranced around the dining room and burst out into song the full details of he and Keith's gay kanoodling.

"Nothing." Said Shiro.

Then Hunk, "Nothing at all."

Lance glowered at Pidge, willing an answer out of her. "What?" She asked, genuinely shrugging. "If you have a problem with Keith go battle it out amongst yourselves like you always do. Just try not to break anything this time."

Lance laughed, _really laughed._ Actually he realised half-way through his laughter that he definitely sounded like a maniac. He pretended to wipe amused tears from his eyes.

"That's right, Pidge. You're sooo right. Me and Keith, right there. You hit the nail on the head. You smashed the ball outta the park. You… you flicked the shrimp in the basket! Lance and Keith – ultimate rivals. Battling it out as always – you've got us down, gurl. Anywho, I have places to be, important people… or… aliens to meet. If ya need me I'll be chillaxing on the training de- I mean _my room_ with a lemonade and some cookies sooo… Yeah. Bye."

"Did he just say 'flicked the shrimp in the basket'?" Said Hunk as Lance hightailed from the dining room.

"Did he even say sentences? Or just a bunch of Lance-like words all strung together?" Said Shiro. The pair of them looked at each other and shrugged.

The training deck was deserted – the only evidence to suggest Keith's presence a flashing score on the screen above the deck. The numbers 38/100 glazed; Keith's lowest score yet.

"Lance? Are you here to do some training?"

Lance jumped out of his skin. What was with people creeping up on him today? But it was just Allura.

"Uhm – no." Said Lance sheepishly, scratching his head. She frowned.

"Is everything okay? I understand that Keith was the most affected yesterday, but if you're experiencing" –

"No, no, no, no – I'm GOOD. Alllll Good. Heh, heh…" Lance realised he didn't sound all good – more like he was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He cleared his throat and tried to ignore Allura's bewilderment. "Have you seen K – Keith?"

"Yes, he was here only five minutes ago. I don't know where he went though. He seemed distracted."

That made Lance's stomach flip. Keith was distracted. Did that mean he remembered? Upon leaving the training deck, Lance found himself aimlessly wandering the castle in hopes of bumping into Keith, and yet every time he heard a noise – a suggestion of a footstep – he was hiding between a wall or a panel or a sleep chamber.

The next day, Lance arrived to breakfast early – much to the others' surprise. But still, _no Keith_. Everyone else had seen him at some point, so what was this? Was he avoiding Lance? It was then that Lance began to have his doubts. If Keith had still been under the Sirens' influence that night, then everything he'd done with Lance was a result of his mind control and therefore absolutely nothing he'd have ever done if he was himself, despite wanting to which was the part that was confusing. If Keith had in fact really wanted to do all those things all along but only had the mentality to do so under influence of mind bending creatures, then why was he avoiding Lance? Was he embarrassed? Angry? Then it dawned on Lance – he was angry that Lance had taken advantage of him.

Lance felt sick. Had he taken advantage of Keith? He hadn't considered that before because everything had felt so… mutual. He thought about it hard, pacing the castle's corridors for hours at a time.

No, for starters – Lance had done his best to push Keith away, right? He'd completely abhorred the idea of Keith clinging to him. Yes, his subconscious had been telling him otherwise, but that didn't come out until they were actually in Keith's room. They'd talked for ages about this and that which was innocent enough. Lance hadn't actually initiated the touching and rubbing and all that stuff it had kind of just… happened. But if Keith was, as Lance suspected, under influence, then he should have expected that sort of thing to happen, and therefore by being the only sane person in the room at the time, he was responsible.

And that brought him to his conclusion. It was entirely his fault.

The next day after dinner, (Keith had conveniently decided to leave minutes before Lance had arrived to go and train, making this yet another near miss on Lance's part) Shiro sat next to Lance who was still stuck at the table, drowning in his thoughts and guilt.

"Lance – Come take a walk with me." Said Shiro, hauling Lance from the table by his elbow.

A pathetic, "Eh?" was all Lance was able to muster as Shiro guided him through the castle corridors in silence, before they reached the front deck. It was beautiful here – unlike the control room there wasn't a constant bleep of machines or Coran slurring ridicules and unintelligible Alteian technicalities at them – there was only a huge, domed window facing outwards into open space. A swirling green galaxy dotted with stars, young and old, loomed, glowing and spectacular. Lance marvelled at it blankly for a moment, realising for a moment, as he sometimes did, that they were in the depths of space – further than any humans had ever gone before.

"Okay, Lance – tell me what happened?" Asked Shiro softly.

Lance gulped. "What do you mean?" He tried innocently.

"I mean, tell me what happened between you and Keith. Why is he avoiding you and why do you always look like you've just tasted some of Coran's cooking?"

Lance hung his head. Mentally, he was spent. He couldn't swing his way out of this one.

"Judging from your behaviour the other morning, either Keith told you something you couldn't handle or something else happened between you two – I'm guessing by the way he was clinging onto you when you brought him back it was something – ahem – different."

"You think?" Said Lance sarcastically.

Shiro laid a hand on Lance's shoulder. "Listen, I'm not asking for the gory details, I just want you guys to resolve whatever it is that's going on. Voltron needs to us to be a team and if you two are… arguing? Whatever it is you're doing, then we're all affected."

Lance looked away guiltily. "I want to talk to him, man – but he's never around! Besides, I don't know what I'll say to him even when we do meet."

"Would an apology do it?" Asked Shiro.

Lance exhaled deeply, "I wish. I can't imagine how this conversation is going to go."

Shiro raised his eyebrows. "Woah, must have been pretty major."

There was a short silence.

"Did you two…? You know…"

Lance leapt away from Shiro at break-neck speed. "NO! No, we did not – uhm – not all the way – NO. No. No we didn't."

Shiro started laughing. "Okay, I get it. But speaking from personal experience, you might want to talk to him about it as soon as you can. The longer you leave this sort of thing, the more awkward it becomes."

Lance scratched his head, grimacing. "Ugh, this is so embarrassing… do the others know? I mean, did they" - ?

"We all pretty much guessed. You were both really obvious the next morning."

Dammit Keith, Lance cursed. And then he cursed himself too.

Seconds later, sirens above their heads sounded, and Coran's voice booming over them.

"All Paladins to the control room! We have received a distress signal. I repeat! All Paladins to the control room!" And seconds later, a disgruntled Allura –

"There's no need to sound so urgent, Coran."

"Shh! I'm trying to motivate them! Is this thing still on?"

Lance looked at Shiro.

"I guess I'll _have_ to talk to him now." He said.

"Just try to keep things civil for the mission." Shiro warned.

The Paladins assembled to the control room in their armour. Lance thought his heart might burst out

of his chest on the way there. And when he arrived – Red flashed before him – red being the

marks on Keith's armour, not blood from the spontaneous nosebleed he was sure might occur at

any moment. He deliberately placed himself next to him.

"Keith." Said Lance, trying to keep his voice neutral – but he felt the shake. Keith turned to him.

"'Sup, Lance." He said vacantly, before turning back to Coran and Allura. Lance felt the blood drain

from his face and his knees go weak. WHY WAS KEITH SO CALM? He wasn't even being cold; he'd

given Lance nothing to suggest any sort of emotion towards him. NOTHING. He felt Shiro's eyes

watching them carefully.

"We received a distress signal from a nearby planet belonging to a tribe called the Thespidians."

"That sounds friendly." Said Hunk dryly. "I don't wanna have to fight again, we just ate."

"Seconded." Said Lance, clutching his stomach. Keith's eyes flicked to him.

Coran was pulling at his moustache. "That's the curious thing." He said, "We've scanned the planet

three times and there seem to be no signs of known life. We're only getting unidentifiable energy

signals."

"What if it's a trap?" Said Keith.

"Yeah!" Lance agreed enthusiastically. Too enthusiastically. "It – it could be."

He forced himself not to look at Keith, who was giving him a sideways glance.

"I don't know, maybe the ship's wrong. It is ten thousand years old, after all." Said Pidge.

"It is possible that some other life form that the ship hasn't catalogued settled there." Said Allura,

nodding.

"Either way, I say we get down there and find out. It could be an emergency, or maybe not. Let's just

have our wits about us." Said Shiro.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

They descended to the planet in the castle, there was no need for their lions yet. Lance wished there

was so that he wasn't looking over at Keith every five seconds.

The planet was desert like, desolate – barren, except for a pile of ruins.

"Thespidian temples." Said Coran as they unloaded one by one. "Or what's left of them, anyway." He

muttered.

Pidge was waving around a device. "The signal is definitely coming from here." She confirmed. "It's

sort of scattered. There isn't a clear source."

"Let's split up and look for signs around the area." Said Allura. "Coran, you go in that direction. Pidge

and Hunk, you two over there, Lance and Keith can venture West and Shiro, you come with me.

We'll stay close to the ship."

Lance felt his heart sink. This had to be a set-up, right? It was a set-up. Without waiting for Lance,

Keith began to march West, his stomping kicking up clouds of sand and dirt. Lance followed him

uselessly. Why did he always find himself staring at Keith's back? If they were going to talk, now

was the time to do it.

"H-hey, uhm – Keith." He tried.

Keith barely turned. "What is it?" He asked blankly.

Lance chewed his lip. He hadn't been prepared for this. "So… it's been a while." He tried. _Wow_. Keith

didn't even bother to turn around.

"Yup." He replied.

Around this area of ruins were pedestals about shoulder height, large vases balancing on each one.

Each vase was decorated with faded patterns in what had once been bright colours.

Lance skulked around the pedestals like a dog around an obstacle course, flicking vases and listening

to the hollow ring that ensued.

"Would you stop that?" Keith snapped, irritated. He still wouldn't look at Lance. Scowling, Lance

flicked another one for good measure.

He slid up behind Keith, who was closely inspecting one of the vases.

"You've been avoiding me." Lance accused.

Keith's shoulders slumped. "The paint is stronger on this one. The others are more faded."

"Hey." Lance pestered, tapping him hard on the shoulder and peeking at his face through the visor.

"Keith, don't ignore" –

Lance stopped, because Keith's face… was… well, it matched the colour of his armour. Bright, bright

red. Lance was stumped.

"…me." He finished hesitantly. Keith shrugged him away.

"I'm not." He stomped away, arms folded to look at another stupid vase. Lance rolled his eyes.

"Uhm, yes – actually you are. I spent the past two days looking for you."

Keith turned, his eyes pointed at the ground.

"Why?"

"To talk to you. After… y'know." Lance scratched his head. This was awkward. Awkward as hell –

but he'd been preparing for this. He closed the distance between them. Keith frowned harder.

"Keith, are you" - ?

"YES. Yes, I am, okay? I like guys. Does that bother you?"

"Uhm…" Lance stopped. "I was gonna ask if you're feeling better, but okay."

Keith gaped at him, the immeasurable extent of his horror almost palpable on his face. And then

the blush – AGAIN – staining scarlet on his cheeks.

"I thought – I mean – I thought you were asking if I – If I'm" –

Lance stopped him, because Keith's embarrassment was rubbing off on him and – it was just – he

wanted to become an ostrich and dig his face in the sand.

"I know. It's cool, I mean – heh, heheh, I kinda guessed that you were already. And… uhm… well

There's stuff I wanted to ask you sort of related to that sooo..."

Keith averted his gaze again. His arms were folded and his arms were crossed. If Lance wasn't so

nervous and embarrassed, he'd admit out loud how cute Keith looked.

"That night – were you still – ahem – affected?"

Keith shrugged, his mouth shut in a frown.

"Because I was thinking, I should apologise. I guessed why you've been avoiding me. Ah, quiznak…"

Lance hung his head. He wasn't used to making apologies. "I know I shouldn't have… y'know… in

that situation. I guess I sorta just - went with the flow, y'know? Just sort of lapped up what you were

saying without realising that normally you'd never want me to do that. I'm sorry. I'll never go near

you again."

Feeling his face burn, Lance turned to stride away. Keith grasped his arm, holding him back, then

let go just as fast.

"No, you've got it wrong." He said quickly, his expression desperate.

Lance frowned. "What have I got wrong? What about this whole thing have I got so wrong? Because

to me, it looks like you got pissed after what happened and decided to avoid me."

Rather than making an angry retort, Keith closed his mouth again and stared at his shoes.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Lance challenged.

"I don't know." Said Keith, his voice small and sad.

Lance grunted and kicked up sand. "Are you kidding me? I've spent the past two days stressing out

over what to say to you and you won't even be honest with me."

"What the hell do you want me to say?" Keith growled. "It's not exactly been easy for me either."

Lance sighed and palmed his face over the visor.

"Fine, try this." He said, "If you can't be honest, then lie to me."

Keith frowned. "What?"

"Lie to me." Said Lance intensely. "Say what you want but turn it into a lie if it's so hard for you to be

honest."

Keith glared at Lance fixatedly, the familiar crimson blush creeping back onto his cheeks. "Fine. I was

still affected by the Sirens when you touched me. I hated it. I hated everything about it. I've been

angry at you this entire time, not myself. I've never thought about us doing that sort of thing and

there's absolutely no way I would want to do it again, so from now on, stay away from me."

Keith didn't break eye-contact for a second. Lance took a few seconds to translate everything Keith

had said into the truth:

 _"I wasn't affected by the Sirens when you touched me. I loved it. I loved everything about it. I've been angry at myself this entire time, not you. I've always thought about us doing that sort of thing and I would want to do it again, so from now on, stay close to me."_

Lance couldn't stop the grin from spreading over his face.

"Do you mean that?" He asked, quite unable to believe it.

Keith nodded. "Every word."

Lance stepped closer. They were centimetres apart. He placed his hands on Keith's arms, willing him to uncross them. It was as though Keith read his mind – his unfolded his arms and Lance's hands slid the length of them to take Keith's hands in his own.

"Have I ever told you you're a bad liar?" He said, looking down at Keith.

Keith smiled. A real smile. A smile like the ones Lance had seen so many of that night when he'd

been so honest.

"Have I ever told you you're bad in bed?"

Lance felt his face fall. "… You're still lying, right?"

Keith laughed. "Nope."

Lance squeezed his hands and pressed the glass of their visors together. "Seriously, Keith. You can

stop lying now."

"Nope."

"I hate you."

"Now that's a lie."

"Ahem, guys?" Shiro's voice sounded in their helmets. Keith and Lance broke apart quickly, glancing around. They looked at each other, their expressions of horror mirrored.

"Did they hear" - ? Lance started, whispering.

"Everything." Said Hunk, his voice dead. "We heard everything."

Keith's face had completely drained of colour. He dropped to his knees in the sand and flopped, face first, onto the ground.

"WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING EARLIER?" Lance screeched.

There was a resounding silence.

"It was fun listening to you guys flail." Said Pidge.

"YOU TOO, PIDGE? I THOUGHT YOU WERE ON MY SIDE."

"There are no sides to a circle."

"WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?"

"I want to die." Said Keith.

"But you'll die a virgin." Hunk giggled.

"Okay, people," Shiro interrupted, coughing back his laughter, "seriously now. Allura's discovered something. All of us need to reconvene by the castle."

"I can't believe they – those little – I can't believe" –

"Stop." Keith groaned. "I don't want to think about it."

Lance knelt in the sand next to Keith. He sighed. "We should get going. We'll have to face them eventually." He rested his hand on Keith's shoulder. Keith reached and gripped his hand hard, his face still in the ground.

"If it wasn't for these visors, I think I'd kiss you." Said Lance without thinking.

Keith lifted his face. "You… want to kiss me." He stated.

Lance immediately felt his neck and face heat, like a boiling kettle. "Uhm… well… yeah."

Keith smiled and pushed himself up from the dirt. "We didn't do that – last time, I mean."

"Do you think we could next time?" Said Lance bluntly. "If – if you want to. We don't have to."

"Lance… look." Said Keith, his voice low and serious.

"Like I said, we don't have to – I mean I guess this is all sorta" -

"No, I mean look – like actually look with your eyes – it's the vases."

"Huh?"

The vases on the pedestals had come to life – the paintings, which had minutes ago been faded relics, bloomed, bright and bold and beautiful as though they had been freshly glossed by a skilled artist.

"Woah…" Lance gaped.

"What is that?" Said Keith, his voice a whisper of awe.

"I guess this is why they need us at the castle." Said Lance.

Allura crouched on the floor, her eyes shut and her palms spread across the sand.

"I knew it." She said, "It's a telepathic signal, just like the one on the Balmera, and it's coming directly from those vases."

Keith and Lance joined the circle, desperately avoiding eye-contact with the other Paladins and each other. A ripple of underlying tension simmered among them all as Allura and Coran intellectually described the situation to them.

"The vases act as sentient vessels of expression. Thespidians used them to communicate love – each painting is a unique graft taken directly from the lovers and translated into visual art on the vase. It was a way to immortalise passion and bind the couple forever."

On any other day, Lance would have been the first to make a comment – the first to laugh or jeer or go 'awh, that's cute. Shame they're all dead.' But today he could only awkwardly stare at his feet, trying not to let his gaze flick to Keith.

Lovers. Of course. Of course. Great timing you trolling, Thespidian bastards, Lance thought.

"That's adorable and everything… but why do vases need Voltron?" Asked Hunk, scratching his chin.

"They don't need Voltron." Said Allura. "They just need to be seen for the traces to stay intact. Having their love communicated to others is what keeps the telepathic field alive."

"You're right." Said Pidge, "We couldn't see the paintings at all when we came, but look at them."

"I feel bad for flicking them now." Said Lance.

"Wait." Said Keith, his eyes focussing in the distance among the ruins. "That one over there – look at it." He meandered between the pedestals, until he reached one closer to the fallen temple. "This one's blank!" He called.

Lance followed him and stood by his side, "Oh, yeah." He mused. "That's weird."

"It was never used." Said Coran joining them. "It will forever remain empty of life and soul, forever alone on this desolate planet."

"Coran, that's so grim." Said Lance, grimacing at him.

"It's kind of sad." Said Keith. And he brushed his fingers over the dusty, curved surface.

There was a collective gasp, because it was as though Keith had cast a spell – from his fingertips, colour blanched onto the vase, swirling in intricate patterns into twists and lines. Keith himself gaped, holding his fingers still as the colour poured from them. When it eventually stopped, half of the vase had been covered, a recognisable feline figure, clad in red and white, leaping across its surface, its mouth wide open.

"Wha – but that's" – Lance wheezed, unable to believe his eyes.

"My lion. I know." Said Keith. "But it's only half."

"That's weird." Said Lance, laying his own hand on the blank side. "Maybe it's broken."

But then, just as it had with Keith, a picture began to form from Lance's hand, triggered by his touch, the other half of the vase was completed. The blue lion, symmetrical to the red, leapt in a graceful arch across the other half, its mouth agape in a mighty roar. The lions' yellow gazes were fixed on each other, painted in exquisite contrast – painted by the souls of Keith and Lance themselves.

"Impossible." Lance breathed, his heart beating. He felt as though a tender part of himself had just separated and attached itself to this vase, intertwining unfathomably with a part of Keith, and when he and Keith's eyes met, he was sure they shared the same expression. And he didn't want to admit that he was on the brink of tears. Neither asked what it meant, because both of them knew – it was confirmation enough that they belonged together.

The others joined them before the painting was complete, all of them transfixed by the wonder that had just occurred in front of their eyes.

"Did that just happen?" Said Pidge, a noticeable edge of disdain in her voice.

"I feel like I just intruded on something I definitely shouldn't have." Hunk added.

Shiro was smiling, he raised his eyebrows at Lance, as if to congratulate him. Lance would have rolled his eyes back if he wasn't feeling so emotional.

"Forever alone my ass." He said to Coran, oddly satisfied.

Lance had disguised his overarching embarrassment and emotions with pleads of "Can we take it with us? But whyyyy? It's so pretty! I don't care if the bond between the other vases is all destroyed, mine and Keith's bond is the coolest!" But Allura had insisted that taking the vase with them would be a destructive telepathic bond that would essentially kill all that was left of the Thespidian race. Unconvinced, Lance reluctantly left the vase behind, but Keith had given him words that made it all okay:

"One day, we'll return and it'll still be here. Living proof of…" And he couldn't finish his sentence because he'd blushed profusely – but it was fine because Lance was so overwhelmed by Keith that Keith didn't even need to speak. Just his existence was enough to fill Lance with giddy excitement that he could barely contain and he expressed by annoying everyone at dinner with terrible jokes and play by plays of everything that had happened in the past few weeks – anything he could think of to distract them from what they'd heard on the planet. But he saw the knowing glances, the pleased yet amused smiles from all, including Keith, and that was enough to fuel his ecstatic energy, to the point where by the time they'd finished eating, they couldn't wait to get away. Except Keith. Keith was still there. And it was like he was waiting for something. When else everyone left, Lance suddenly had nothing to say.

"You're quiet all of a sudden." Said Keith. They were on opposite ends of the table. That made things difficult, because Lance couldn't get side-tracked by proximity or Keith's hair or his smell (which was always so good and he had no idea how Keith did that – was that a Galra thing?) or anything that could divert his attention to something other than talking. Something which could very easily become many things at once that might involve touching – Lance made himself stop staring at Keith's lips. His thoughts were drifting beyond the PG zone.

"Yeah, well… I'm quite tired." Was his best excuse.

Keith raised his brow. "Too tired to hang out for a bit longer?"

Lance gulped. "No, no – we could totally hang out… somewhere other than here would be nice."

Keith averted his gaze. "My room?" He tried to say casually. But it was anything BUT casual, because they both remembered what had happened the last time they were in Keith's room.

Lance shrugged. "Sure. Coolbeans." He cringed. Coolbeans…

Keith's room hadn't shrunk since Lance had last been in there – it just felt a lot smaller now, since he was so aware of the space between them. He felt there was nowhere he could stand or sit or breathe without Keith being only centimetres apart. Not to mention, Keith's scent was everywhere. It was more than what Lance would describe as a typical 'boy' scent. It was that post-active I've-just-finished-training-and-working-out sort of smell – the kind that was impossible to get rid of and filled with the kind of Pheromones that Lance wished his own room had. His room had a distinct scent of I've-not-showered-in-a-while-and-probably-jerked-off-just-before-you-arrived. Not exactly a turn on.

As soon as they walked through the door, Keith removed his jacket. He was wearing a t-shirt underneath, and Lance swore the material on that shirt was freaking designed to cling to every curve and line humanly possible. It would be less suggestive if Keith wasn't wearing a shirt at all – Lance kind of wished that was the case. Even though the light was still on.

Oh yeah…

Was this going to be one of those 'lights on' sort of sessions where they just talk about stuff? Lance didn't mind that so much, not particularly, but now they'd crossed that barrier – the barrier that established they shared a bond worthy of decorating the vase of an ancient race designed to immortalise the passions of lovers - maybe Keith would allow for some other 'lights off' sort of stuff, even if he wasn't pretending to be under Siren influence.

Keith plonked himself onto the bed, hauling off his shoes. Lance stayed put by the door. Maybe it would be presumptuous to sit down too. He didn't want Keith to think that was all that was on his mind. Wasn't it though? He'd just spent the last thirty seconds admiring Keith's sculpted biceps. Lance made himself look at the floor.

"Uhm… Lance? Are you okay?" Keith probed, genuine concern on his face.

"Yup. I'm gooood." Said Lance, leaning against the wall. Keith smiled.

"Last time you did that, you hit your head against the wall."

Lance scowled. "You remember that? Great."

Keith laughed. And holy quiznak did Lance love that sound. He almost felt his legs melt into the floor. "Come and sit here where you'll be less of a danger to yourself." Said Keith, patting the space next to him.

Lance shuffled over, keeping his limbs locked in. He didn't want to seem too loose or relaxed or ready for… well, 'lights out' stuff. He took off his shoes to be polite.

Then they were just sat on the bed, Lance sort of trying to seem casual but completely stumped and suddenly mute. Where was his talk? Where were his words?

"Earlier…" Said Keith, scuffing his feet along the floor in circular motions. Lance had a flashback to those feet pulling desperately on the sheets, moving restlessly… he shook his head. No. No. No.

"You said that there would be a next time." Keith finished, oblivious to Lance's ever increasing anxiety.

"Huh? I did? Oh, yeah… forget I said that if you want." Said Lance, fiddling with the blankets in the small space between he and Keith's thighs.

"But – when you said that it implied you wanted to continue – I mean – you didn't mind" –

"Do you want to? Continue, I mean?" Lance was trying his hardest to dampen his enthusiasm, but similarly with his excitement earlier, he could barely contain himself. Keith's room was doing something weird to him – he was getting all hot under his clothes and he kept remembering small moments from that night. Flashes, like strobes.

Keith looked him in the eye. At this proximity, Lance could make out every single one of his ridiculously long eyelashes. His hair was getting in the way again. Stupid mullet-head, he thought fondly. Without thinking, Lance brushed Keith's hair out of his eyes in one slow, swift movement. Keith's eyes widened in surprise and his breath caught mid-way in his throat.

"Sorry." Lance whispered, his hand paused by Keith's ear. He didn't let it fall. It stayed there, unsure and undecided. Keith decided for him, and pressed Lance's hand to his cheek, which was hot.

"You said you wanted to kiss me, too." Said Keith carefully, his eyes on Lance's lips.

"I did – I did indeed say that." Said Lance, growing flustered and more and more aware of the lack of distance between their lips – distance that was getting shorter by the second.

And Keith did it. Keith leant forward, closed his eyes and parted his lips against Lance's mouth. Too eager, too hot and too passionate all at once. Lance made a noise of surprise in the back of his throat, and pushed back, returning the kiss in all of its suddenness and strange hot-headed Keithness. Because he should have known – this was how Keith kissed. All out, or nothing. Kamikaze Keith; diving straight in with no consideration for his own life. And it wasn't bad. Hell, it wasn't even just good – it was amazing and thrilling and burning and – why was that light still on?

They broke apart to take in a desperate breath, before bumping together again, swapping the tilt of their faces, deciding non-verbally, which way was best. Lance found his hand in Keith's hair, gripping him closer, and Keith had grabbed the front of Lance's shirt by his collar. It was a messy, heated, grappling and, yes, somewhat wet sort of kiss. They missed a couple of times, grazing each other's chin with their teeth of accidentally pecking the tip of their noses. But they were too lost in each other to notice, let alone care. Soon, Keith was pushing Lance onto the bed, their lips still attached. He was stroking Lance's face and trailing his fingers down Lance's neck and over his clothes and tangling their legs together. If he wasn't careful, they'd both go crashing onto the floor. All of this was wonderful and quick and unlike anything Lance had ever felt, but there was something bothering him ceaselessly.

Lance broke them apart with some force and they stopped, gasping and staring at each other.

"Keith… I need to – I need to" –

"What?"

"I need to turn out the light."

Keith smirked, and so did Lance, because they knew exactly what would happen once they were in the dark.

"Go on. I'll be waiting."


	4. Speak to Me

**_Well,_** **I thought this story was over. Apparently not. This is Part 2 of Lie to Me and will be titled 'Speak to Me'. It's (mostly) from Keith's POV which I wanted to do anyway - I decided my idea would work better as a continuation of this story rather than a standalone, but if you enjoyed the first three parts and want to leave it there then that is totally fine! Anyhow, we'll soon see whether this was a mistake or not. Also, it will get more mature/explicit in chapters 5 and 6 so *warnings there*.**

 _There's a problem here,_ Keith realised too late. This wasn't the first time he'd acted before thinking about what he was doing. Now he thought about it, when did he ever think? Thinking wasn't really his thing. Even now, all this thinking was a bit too much. He usually let Lance do that; Lance liked to think, and clearly, Lance had done a hell of a lot more thinking than he had because - this was not where he wanted to be. _This is my stupid fault_ , he thought as he was shoved onto his back. Wait - Lance was being pretty damn rough. It was in protest that Keith dug his fingers hard into Lance's back, but that only seemed to fuel him. _Damn. I'm totally gonna be penetrated,_ he thought, panicking.It would be much easier to just, sort of, open his mouth and voice his misgivings. _What are those things called?_ Keith struggled internally. _Oh, yeah. WORDS._ But he had no words. He didn't want to tell Lance, 'stop' because - well, he was enjoying it. Everything up to now had been way more than he'd ever hoped for. But now they'd reached this point and - there was no border between them. It had happened so fast. Too fast. Actually - when had his clothes ended up on the floor? Yeah. Keith was no good at thinking or reading the situation. He was good at taking the first leap, volunteering, _taking action -_ and that's what he'd done when he'd kissed Lance. It was because of Lance's thinking. He could see the clockwork ticking in Lance's eyes, the ' _Do I? Don't I? I want to, but should I?'_ that had annoyed Keith, and kissing Lance was a simple, clear resolution. And a pleasurable one. Everything after that was a blur of groping, biting, rubbing and skin. Hands everywhere, lips anywhere, scratching, tumbling - a heap of uncoordinated ecstasy that had all led to this moment. And Keith would be the first to admit - he'd initiated it. He'd felt Lance's surprise at his eagerness, the hesitation at first, all slowly dissipating as he was reassured by Keith, until he finally stopped thinking - and things got dangerous when Lance stopped thinking. Everything Keith did, Lance took it as a push, a signal to go further, and that was fine but - and Keith _really_ didn't want to admit this - he was scared.

He finally found his words a moment before it happened. "Lance - stop."

Lance halted instantly, as though Keith had found his 'pause' button. He was stiller than a statue. Keith heard his own heaving breaths between them, Lance braced above him in deadly silence. This went on for longer than Keith was comfortable with.

"Are... you okay?" Lance finally asked, his tone clipped.

"Uhm - yeah." Said Keith awkwardly. And it was _so_ awkward, because Keith had just broken the flow of something he wasn't sure he could start again.

"Do you want me to" - ?

"No. I mean... yes, but" -

"But you don't want to."

Keith hated that Lance said it like that. Because it was true, but it wasn't. And hadn't they agreed to be honest with each other? Or was that just Keith in his foggled mind making things up? Was it okay to be honest now?

"I'm sorry. I just can't." Even though it was dark, Keith couldn't bring himself to look at Lance's shadow. He'd flung an arm over his face instinctively to hide the blush and angled his head towards the wall.

Then that was that. A disappointing and unsatisfying conclusion to what was supposed to be... well, neither of them had known what it was supposed to be. Even so, Lance had reacted differently to how Keith had anticipated.

"It's alright." Said Lance brightly, rolling away from Keith and stationing himself onto his back. "We don't have to rush."

Keith wanted to be happy that Lance was so readily accepting his hesitation, but something felt _off._ "Yeah. We don't have to..." He agreed. Then Lance ruffled Keith's hair affectionately and laughed a little through his nose.

"You must be exhausted. I didn't think, sorry." Said Lance.

Why did he sound so detached? And when had Keith ever shown a sign of being exhausted? He'd jumped into Lance's lap faster than a Teledove space leap - so why was he being like this? Keith was full of questions, but he was never too fond of thinking up answers. And Lance _was_. He was thinking right now. Keith could almost hear his analysing, whirring in the darkness.

"Uhm - Lance." He tried.

"Get some sleep, Keith." Said Lance, hooking an arm around Keith's shoulders. "You need it."

Keith didn't want to be the one to mention that both of them were still hanging on the prime of their arousal - Lance the most out of either them; it was pressing against Keith's _leg_ for crying out loud. But advancing into that territory felt too awkward right now, Keith decided. He didn't want to embarrass himself any more than he already had.

At some point during the heavy silence that followed, Lance drifted off into a comfortable slumber, and Keith was left in the dark with his thoughts. He had an itching urge to get up and - run around the castle, fight a robot to within an inch of his life, _ride a motorbike off a cliff,_ anything to shake off this feeling. But Lance's arms were a barrier, holding him to the soft, hot sheets of his small cramped bed. There was nowhere he'd rather be, he decided, than in Lance's arms - so why did he want out so badly? He wanted to do these things with Lance, so much so that it physically ached in more places than one, so why had he stopped?

Keith realised he was gay way back in training, coincidentally around the same time that he'd dropped out. Or maybe not so much of a coincidence, now he thought about it. He hadn't thought about it before. He tended to avoid thoughts like that. But he'd done his research; he knew how these things were supposed to go. He just hadn't expected it to happen so soon. Least of all with his school rival... and who'd have thought his feelings would be reciprocated? Admittedly, he'd been holding them in for a long time. Keith had always been jealous of Lance's carefree nature. _Jealous_. That was easier to explain than _in absolute awe_ of him. Not to mention, Lance's strategic mind was impressive in and of itself. And he'd always thought of Lance as _warm_ \- the kind of, family, welcoming, open-armed, homeliness kind of warm. For a long time, Keith struggled to decide why he found that attractive. Then he gave up, and resolved to keeping his feelings private forever. Because that was easier. Staying cold and detached and distant was easier than trying to aim for something which would only make him vulnerable. The Sirens had decided for him, though, and his innermost desires were forced into the open onto the one person he'd been trying to hide them from. Of course, Keith was glad of that now; without it, they'd have never come to light, but in the end, it was Lance who brought them together. It was Lance who made them _talk_ about it - something Keith was never very good at. Talking, thinking... two rather essential skills needed to function as a human being that Keith did not possess. Or rather, he did - it was just too hard to try and do both at the same time in any way that was at all constructive. But despite all that, in his head, he knew what he wanted. He had planned to tell Lance what to do, when the time came. But it was kind of an awkward conversation to have. How did he turn to Lance and say, "Oh, by the way, you can't just dive straight in there, we need to do some prep first." However he'd thought about wording it, it also sounded wrong and embarrassing and UGH - Keith squished himself further into Lance's overheated side. His face was hot again. He was blushing at his own stupid thoughts. That's why he didn't like to think.

* * *

Keith woke up first in the morning. Again. This had happened the first time, too, except that time he'd bolted out of sheer panic and avoided Lance for days. He fought with his instincts to remain still. In bed. Next to the radiator of heat that was his lover. Lance. His lover... Lance... The bed was starting to warm up again, so Keith slapped himself in the face. The sound stirred the comatosed heap next to him, and Lance groaned as he drifted in to wakefulness, stretching out his freakishly long arms, narrowly missing Keith's nose. Lance blinked, bleary eyed, like he wasn't sure where he was, then his face broke into a radiant and weary smile once he saw Keith.

"Morning, mullet-head." He yawned.

Keith glared at him. "You're like a furnace. And you snore."

Lance frowned. "I so don't."

"Oh, you _so_ do."

"Gah!" Lance exclaimed, before scrunching up Keith's hair again in that weird gesture. Keith didn't like it. "I can't win with you." He conceded playfully, unaware of Keith's disdain. "And I'm too hungry for this. Let's get up and get to breakfast, kay?"

He was too happy. And they weren't talking. Not properly. And all of this just felt so...

"You want to go now?" Keith asked him. He'd been lying awake half the night sure that Lance would want to do _something_. Or was it only Keith who got like that in the mornings? They were both naked, so Keith tried to judge the situation for himself without Lance noticing and - well (his face was going red again, he forced himself to think about swords in an attempt to distract himself, but that only made it worse when he realised a sword was the worst euphemism ever) - Lance was certainly more awake downstairs than he was making out. But he hadn't even made to _touch_ Keith like that, let alone do anything else. Didn't he want him anymore?

Keith shook his head, dispelling his paranoia as they both got out of bed, pulling on their clothes as quickly as they could. It was odd seeing each other stark naked in the bright room. Lights off was definitely better. For now.

Lance was babbling on the way to breakfast about piloting, and Keith wasn't really listening. He wasn't walking next to him either, it was as though he was trying to keep two paces ahead at all times, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. It's not like Keith expected them to be skipping down the corridors hand in hand with flowers in their hair, but he didn't anticipate this... _distance_. And breakfast wasn't any better. The others didn't help at breakfast either; it was as though everyone at the table, save for Coran who still remained somehow blissfully unaware of everything, was trying to draw attention to Lance and Keith exclusively, saying very little but sharing the odd sneaky smirk.

"You look tired this morning, Keith."

"Mmm."

"You must be hungry after all the _action_ yesterday."

"Sure."

"Wow, Keith is your hair usually that messy? What _happened_?!"

"I'm going to train."

He was sick of it, and sick of himself for being sick of it. He pushed himself from the table, leaving his breakfast half-eaten and making eye contact with nobody, least of all Lance.

An entire day passed this way, and Keith spent the better part of it beating up the castle robots, and then letting himself get beat up because it was a nice distraction. He'd half-expected (and hoped) that Lance would come after him, that he'd talk it out and untangle the hot mess in Keith's head. But he didn't. Keith didn't know where he was. And he tried not to care. Just because they were a thing now, they still had their own lives, right? They still needed their own space. Keith loved his own space, but he wasn't overly opposed to sharing it with Lance. Just for a little while.

* * *

"HONING IN ON PLANET ALAFLUFFTERUZIANMANTRABELT" Coran yelled through the intercom that evening at dinner, despite being in the same room as them.

"That wasn't even Alteian." Said Pidge flatly, "That was just nonsense."

"Does he expect us to remember the names of everywhere we go? So far I only remember Balmera and crazy mermaid planet - and I'm not too sure on that second one." Said Hunk.

"I vote we call it Fluff." Said Lance, "There was 'Fluff' in there somewhere."

"Agreed." Said everyone simultaneously, except Keith, who eyed Lance from across the table. Lance wasn't looking at him. He was just sort of grinning at everyone in that 'Lance-y' way. It was annoying.

"We're only stopping for fuel." Said Allura tiredly through the intercom, "But we'll be passing through the busiest outdoor market in the galaxy. You're all welcome to stop by and browse the stalls while we fill up - just keep your armour on so that we can all communicate in case something goes wrong. The market contains more species of advanced alien race than you've ever encountered at any given time, so stay alert." She warned.

"Yes, princess," Said Shiro automatically, despite the fact that she couldn't hear him, and left to change into his armour. The others followed suit, but Keith stayed stuck to the table.

"Keith?" Lance surprised him by staying behind.

"I'm not going." Said Keith, his chin resting on the tabletop. "You guys go... have fun."

Pause.

"Okay! See you later." And Lance was out the door.

Keith sat up, staring at the space where he'd disappeared. SERIOUSLY?! Well, that did it. Any reservations Keith had had about the night before were gone. Lance was officially a moron. He didn't even ask him if he was okay, though he knew if he had, Keith would have just responded with 'I'm fine' or something along those lines. _But I'm blatantly not fine,_ thought Keith angrily, _even someone as dense as him could see that!_ Keith pushed away from the table so hard that his chair went flying. He didn't bother to pick it up as he stormed to his bedroom -and then not his bedroom because it still smelled like Lance and that was just too much right now - so he went to the pool instead.

The market was crazy to say the least. The Paladins had never found themselves so surrounded by such a multitude of different species, all jostling around mobile stalls – some held up merely by wooden poles and fabric covers, others floating metres above the ground selling cutting-edge space technology from their equally flashy ships. Pidge beamed at the sight, her eyes becoming entranced discs, swallowing up the hordes of undiscovered equipment.

"I – I did not know I needed to be here so badly until I saw this." She whispered, enthralled, before leaping from the ship and straight into the thronging crowds.

"Ohhhhhhh, there are food stalls. _Food stalls!"_ Hunk cried, following suit.

"Paladins, be careful!" Allura shouted after them.

"Don't worry, Princess," Said Shiro, "Lance and I will – Lance?"

But Lance had already melted into the crowds too. Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. He and Allura exchanged a glance.

"They'll be fine." Said Coran with a shrug, "We're all connected and at the most it'll take us an hour to refuel. Not to mention, any species on this planet are here for trade _only_. Politics is irrelevant here. AlafLuffteruzianmantrabelt is a place of peace."

"Try saying that five times faster." Lance snarked through the communicator.

"Don't you dare do anything stupid." Shiro warned him.

"Me? Stupid? Come on, Shiro. You know me better than that."

Lance was in the spice market. Despite wearing his visor, the intense smells penetrated deep into every pore, making him woozy. Red, orange and yellow bloomed around every corner. Hundreds of voices chattering in alien languages bubbled from the ground up, creating a din of smells and sights and noise not unlike the foreign countries of Earth. _Red_ … Keith would have liked it here, Lance thought. He felt bad for leaving him at the castle, but he knew that Keith needed his own space. He'd pushed him too far last night, and the last thing he wanted was for Keith to start properly avoiding him again. Plus… they needed to talk about what had happened. But again, he didn't want to push Keith. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, Lance thought as he transitioned into another part of the market where the smells changed from spices to incense and the stalls became denser and darker. Lance had thought about it a lot, and realised that he hadn't really known what he was doing. Did Keith know what he was doing? And – had he been with anyone before? Lance had no idea how much experience Keith actually had. Either way, he forced himself to stop speculating again. This time, he'd let Keith come to him.

"Young man." A hand gripped Lance's shoulder, spinning him around. The smooth voice belonged to a – well – a girl? An unknown species of girl, Lance decided on, but definitely a girl – adorned in a revealing, sequined body-suit, perfectly in line with the stripes that streaked her blue skin. Her long, pink hair was much the same way, covered in sparkles and glitter, and in her other hand she carried a mysterious black box.

"Hmm…" She mused with a teasing smile, "Maybe _not_ so young."

Her hand still hadn't moved from Lance's shoulder. Lance gulped.

"Err – Hello." He said. _Keith_ , he thought, _I'm with Keith, I'm with Keith_.

She pressed him against a shadowy, sandstone wall. "What are you looking for?" She asked, her voice slippery and quiet. It wasn't sexy or tempting in the slightest, and she was trying to press against Lance.

 _Quiznak._ " _Not_ what you're looking for. I am a happily taken man." Said Lance firmly, prising her hand off his shoulder. Before adding, "Thanks." He had to be polite.

Her face fell and she stepped away. "Oh, I'm so sorry." She was embarrassed.

"No, no, it's cool." Lance reassured. He struck a pose, "I get this a lot."

He didn't. She giggled. "You're funny. Y'know, I'm a fortune teller too. How about I tell you your fortune as an apology?"

Hmm… Lance glanced around. She looked innocent enough – if you only ignored her attire from the neck down. He shrugged. "Sure. Sounds cool." They did have an hour after all.

She flashed a strange, blue, enchanting smile. "Good choice. Follow me."

Shiro, Hunk and Pidge had found each other and were wandering around the exotic pets stores. There were Muppies (dog-like creatures covered in feathers), Yeppers, fire-swarming-bees and mice not dissimilar to Allura's.

"Has anyone seen Lance?" Shiro asked.

The others shrugged.

"Lance?" Pidge asked into her communicator.

"Dude, where are you?" Hunk tried.

There was nothing. Only static. The three shared a look, and a telepathic agreement of, _He's in trouble again._

Keith was bored. And frustrated. He'd exhausted the pool and had fought enough robots over the past day to create a small army. Now he was wandering aimlessly in the silence, running from his own thoughts. His armour lay, ready for him, by his bed where he'd thrown it off the night before. It would be so easy to just put it on and go outside. And next to it, Lance's sweater. The moron must have forgotten it. Looking at it, crumpled on the floor, he'd initially felt detached – irritated even – until – _Lance._ Where had that come from? That sudden stab in his abdomen, an arrow of instinct that warned him – _Lance is in danger_. Breathless with the sentient realisation, he grabbed his helmet and shoved it on.

"Guys – is everything alright?" He asked into it.

"Keith!" Shiro was the first to answer. "Not exactly. Lance is missing."

 _I knew it_ , he wanted to say, but didn't because – it was weird wasn't it?

Keith swiped Lance's sweater from the floor, clutching it tight in his hands.

"I'm coming out." He said through gritted teeth. "I'll find him." And he meant it.


End file.
